


Whats in a name?

by Murmures1234



Series: Terror Inside Companion Pieces [2]
Category: Homeland
Genre: Family, Family Drama, Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 05:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murmures1234/pseuds/Murmures1234
Summary: Companion to the Terror Inside.Did you wonder why Frannie is calling Peter her Dad, but has her mothers name still? This is how.





	Whats in a name?

In which Peter and Carrie have an argument about names.  
\------------------------------------------  
It was storming outside, thunder and lightning. Heavy rain, Cold.  
Frannie was still at school. Thankfully.  
1615.  
Not for long though. She’d be home soon.  
Peter had asked Maggie to pick her up. Frannie had witnessed mum and dad argue all day yesterday, had spent most of her day in floods of tears. Peter wanted this whole shit show resolved. It had gone on too long now. 

Smash. 

Peter ducked just in time. A plate smashed next to his head. 

“You’re fucking crazy!” He spat out, hands gripping the work bench. 

“No shit, you fucking married this!” Was the tight lipped response. “I just don’t get it, why won’t you tell me why you don’t want her to have your fucking name. That all I want to know, is why.” 

Another plate. Smash. 

“I shouldn’t have to, you should just accept it’s important to me that she keeps your name.” What he didn’t say, is that he didn’t know why. They kept going around and around in circles. He couldn’t figure it out. There wasn’t a reason as far as he could see. It was just important that Frannie didn’t change her name. Just as it had been important to him they’d both kept their names when they got married. 

The door opened. 

“I can’t just accept it. I have to know! I have to.” Carrie said, a manic look in her eyes. 

Frannie and Maggie walked through the door. 

Frannie took one look at the mess, and burst into tears, running up the stairs. 

“Now look what you’ve done,” was all Peter could spit out before he ran upstairs after his little girl. 

Carrie just stood there, looking helplessly at her sister, tears in her eyes. Hands ringing, shaking. 

“He won’t let Frannie take his name…. He won’t tell me why. I’ve fucked it up Maggie. He’s going to leave, isn’t he?” 

Maggie took 2 steps forward and buried her Sister in her arms. Carrie sobbed, incomprehensibly. 

“He’s not leaving, you daft mare. Trust me, ok.” 

Upstairs, Peter Quinn was sat outside the bathroom, feeling so incredibly guilty. Not about the name situation, no. He had a right to make his feelings known. But he’d never wanted his and Carrie’s shit to affect the little girl he loved so dearly. 

He’d tried the door, it was locked. He’d tried to pick the lock next, but she’d obviously jammed something in the mechanism, and was sat against the door. So he had to just sit there as little eight year old Frannie cried her little heart out, refusing any affection. 

“Red, please let me in” he tried after what seemed like the 20th attempt to get her to open the door. “I’m sorry you had to see mummy and me arguing.”

Sniffles. But there was movement, something being wiggled around. Within seconds, Peter had picked the lock. 

Red Hair, but with a red face and red eyes. Clearly tired. Snot all over her school uniform sleeve. 

She stood there for a second, then bundled into her father’s arms, suddenly desperate for the feeling of warmth and safety that she always felt in her care. 

They stayed there for what seemed like forever, Peter cradling his little angel. 

Suddenly, after some time she sat up, and looked him in the eyes. 

Mathieson eyes swallowed him whole, every time. 

“Why won’t you tell mummy.” 

Peter looked at her confused. 

“Tell her what honey?” 

Now Frannie looked confused. 

“Why you want me to keep mummy’s name, silly.” 

Hands around his neck, a tired child snuggling back into his chest. 

Peter was silent for a bit. 

“Because I don’t know why, Red. I just do, it’s important to me, I don’t know why.” 

Frannie was mumbling into his chest. “You’re stupid Daddy.” 

“Why?” Peter said. 

Peter had to strain to hear her mumbled response. 

“It’s because you don’t want me to end up with lots of names like you had. It would be a lot easier than you both being angry and being sad if you just told mummy. I don’t like it when you’re sad. It makes me sad.” 

Peter sat there in shock, his hand stroking the tiny little head, which was tired from all the tears that had been shed. Suddenly, Peter was exhausted too. How had this little girl figured him out so perfectly, with what little age appropriate information they’d told her? He never thought he’s answer to anyone, but now he was more wrapped around the little finger of a little kid than he thought possible. 

The sniffles gave way to a light snore, the emotions of the last few days of domestic arguments getting the better of her. He stood up from his position by the bathroom door, and carried little Frannie downstairs in his arms. 

Maggie and Carrie had obviously been cleaning up the kitchen in his absence, Carrie was sat there, her hands around a cup of coffee, eyes red rimmed. 

“I didn’t tell you cos I didn’t know why.” Peter said quietly, but his voice carrying. 

“I’m so sorry Peter,” Carrie said, trying to stand up. 

“No I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t know. But I know why now. This one figured it out.” He said, gesturing to the little girl asleep in his arms. “She told me to tell you, because then we’d all stop being sad, and she’d stop being sad.” 

Carries mouth formed into a watery smile. 

“Why then?” 

“Because….” Peter paused, struggling to get his words out. Then they came out in a rush, quiet, with gasping breaths and tears. “Because I don’t want her to get used to changing her name, ok? I don’t want her to not having an identity. I want her name to mean something to her. I don’t want everything about her to change when I adopt her, I want her to still be her. I just want her to be mine too.” 

He clutched onto Frannie like she was a teddy. 

Carrie closed the gap. Arms around him. Embracing him, containing him. 

She should have realised it was something about his past. Peter Quinn had been so many different people over the years. 

“I should have known Peter, I’m sorry.” 

“I should have asked for help figuring out why,” was all he said between the gasping breaths. “I shouldn’t have left it up to Red here.” He said, giving his little girl a squeeze. 

Maggie got up and quietly left. 

The three of them sat on the kitchen floor. 

“I love you, you know that right?” Carrie said after a while. “I know I don’t show it the best sometimes. I shouldn’t have got mad. I should have helped you understand why. I am trying here though, I’m terrible at this, but I am trying. I am sorry I over reacted. This whole shit show is my fault.” 

“I know.” 

Peter smiled back at her, and leaned his head against hers. 

The minutes ticked by. 

“Do we have to cook tonight?” Carrie asked. 

“No, but we are getting Indian.” Peter smiled at her. 

Carrie laughed. 

“What, that’s the rules! You admit responsibility, I get Indian. I admit responsibility, you get Greek! Its what we agreed!” Peter said, laughing. 

They stayed leaning against each other for a short while. 

A little face blearily opened her eyes. 

A smile daubed across it. 

Peter poked her nose. 

“Stop it Daddy,” She said, swiping her dads finger away. 

But he was too quick, always too quick. 

Giggles of a little girl being tickled spread across the kitchen.

Then she scooted to the side, just in time. 

“Have you stopped being sad now?” She asked, trying her best to look stern. Failing. 

Peter smiled. 

“Yes Red, we have.” 

Frannie’s face lit up. 

“What’s made you so happy Munchkin?” 

Frannie turned to her Mum, a smile across her face. 

“We’re eating curry tonight, that’s what.” 

Carrie and Peter burst out laughing. They didn’t realise Frannie had figured out the take away pattern was related to who said sorry! Smart kid. Peter caught Frannie again, started tickling. 

Carrie was still giggling as she stood up to get the menu. 

“You’d know she was your kid without your name, without even signing the bloody adoption papers.” 

“How?” Peter said. 

“She’s exactly like you. She’s obsessed with mud, adventures and curry!”


End file.
